Experient
by wonderstone
Summary: Chell's life has been a fight for survival. Now, she's free of Aperture, and a world of endless possibilities is at her fingertips. However, she finds that building a life is far more difficult than she had thought. And when a particularly painful piece of her past finds its way into her future, Chell realizes that freedom may be her hardest test yet. M for adult content/language
1. Chapter 1

_Beep, beep, beep. _

The high-pitched sound of the heart monitor filled the otherwise silent room. A warm soft glow illuminated the hospital bed, pushed up against the farthest beige wall. A cluster of machines crowded beside it, monitoring the vitals of a comatose young woman resting beneath the powder blue sheets. Her thick, brown hair lay in tangles over the pristine white pillowcase. Her dark eyelashes fanned out across her hollow cheeks. Then, for the first time in days, they lifted from their resting place.

Chell's vision was blurry as she slowly adjusted to the muted lighting emanating from the lamp on her bedside table. She blinked at least a week's worth of sleep from the corners of eyes and tried to lift her arms to scratch at her face but found them limp at her sides with exhaustion.

_Where am I?_ She thought, taking in her surroundings.

The sterile room, cold tile floors, and sparse furnishings were all too familiar and she began to get the sick feeling she may once again be back _there. _As panic washed over her the beeping of the monitor accelerated, signifying her racing heart. She tried her very hardest to push herself out of bed but the sudden exertion nearly caused her to black out.

Suddenly the door burst open. The bright lighting from the hallway illuminated the figure of a young woman who rushed towards the bed. Panicked, she attempted to calm Chell, but the struggling ex-test subject would not comply. Instead, she strained against the other girl's iron grip, ignoring the angry screams of every single bone, muscle, and nerve ending in her body. The blond girl reached into the pocket of her pink cotton pants and pulled out a syringe. In the blink of an eye she flipped over Chell's arm and plunged the needle into the crook of her elbow. Shocked, Chell blinked at the sight of the syringe buried in her flesh and felt the sting of the liquid sliding out of the tube and into her bloodstream.

She looked up and locked eyes with the red-faced girl who was brushing a strand of golden hair out of her field of vision. It finally dawned on Chell that this young woman was a human. After all this time spent chasing her freedom in hopes of finding someone like herself, her dream had finally been realized. Joy began to swell in her chest but as the drug started to take effect she found herself unable to react. Chell fought uselessly to stay awake but as her eyelids drooped she was forced back into darkness.

"Welcome back," Chell heard as she awoke.

She turned her head and saw the girl from before standing next to her bed gazing down at her, a warm smile spread across her face. Tears pooled in Chell's eyes upon hearing the first real, organic, human voice in living memory. Relief spread through her with the realization that she was _not _the only human left after all.

"My name is Shelly, and I'm your nurse," the girl continued, "You're in the hospital."

Hospital. Chell remembered that. A huge building where you go if you get sick or injured. Therefore, her presence there meant that she must be one of those two things. She grimaced at the thought. She had no memory of becoming very seriously ill or hurt, so something must have happened that she couldn't recall. But what?

"You have been in a coma for just over a week. Now, that may _seem _like a long time, but considering the condition you were in when you got here that is actually pretty short. You are incredibly resilient."

Chell laughed to herself, wondering what the nurse would think if she knew that Chell had recently been in stasis for _years. _

Nurse Shelly turned away from Chell and pressed a button on the wall.

"I've just called the doctor," she explained, "he will be here in a few minutes to explain everything in greater detail."

Chell nodded, and struggled to sit up. Nurse Shelly scrambled to her side and placed her hands in Chell's armpits, lifting her up to lean against the headboard. Chell frowned, hating the idea of being treated like a weakling. However, she had to admit that she would not have been able to sit up on her own. Her body felt incredibly debilitated. Hopefully the doctor would explain why.

"Is that comfortable?" she asked, sliding a pillow behind Chell's shoulder blades.

Chell nodded and the nurse grinned.

"Good. Are you thirsty? Your body can't keep down anything solid, but water is ok."

Chell noticed that she did feel rather parched, and she nodded. Nurse Shelly trotted out of the room and returned a few moments later carrying a white plastic pitcher and a matching cup. She poured the clear liquid into the cup and placed a bendable straw into it. Then, she turned and guided the straw toward Chell's lips. Chell, appalled by the gesture, shook her head and refused the nurse's aid. Instead, she managed to lift her hands and reached out for the cup.

"I don't think that's a good idea..." Shelly warned.

Chell, determined as ever, shoved her outstretched palms closer to the nurse, insisting on holding her own cup. She was not a child, and refused to be treated as one. After navigating countless test chambers and staring death in the face more times than any human ever should, she was more than capable of drinking water on her own. Shelly glanced down at Chell warily, hesitantly placing the cup in Chell's hand. Chell grinned triumphantly, but to her dismay her hands began to shake so violently that she was unable to bring the straw to her mouth and instead doused herself with water. Shelly quickly reached out and snatched the cup from Chell's quivering fingers, placing it on the nightstand. She stared at Chell sympathetically and Chell, mortified, looked away.

"It's ok!" The nurse said encouragingly, opening one of the nightstand drawers and pulling out a small towel, "You can't help it! You're very fragile right now."

Chell knew she was just trying to make her feel better, but her words had the opposite effect. A lot of things have been said about her but _fragile_ was never one them. Her steadfast strength was always what carried her through the tough times. Now, she didn't even have that.

Shelly was dabbing at the dark splotches on Chell's pale grey hospital gown when a gruff looking middle-aged man in a long white coat entered the room. Ignoring Shelly he walked over to Chell and leaned down until he was eye level with her. His dark brown eyes bore into hers menacingly, his mouth set in a grim line. Chell gulped as he flicked his eyes across her body, surveying her current condition. He silently gauged her over for a few more moments, causing Chell's anxiety to shoot through the roof. Suddenly, he burst out in a deep laugh. A warm smile spread across his face and he shoved his giant calloused hand in her face.

"Hey there!" He bellowed, his voice a deep bass, "It's great to see you awake! I'm Dr. Mac Patterson, and I've been taking caring of you for the past week and a half. It's nice to meet you."

He jabbed his hand a little closer to Chell and she realized he meant for her to shake it. Tentatively, she placed her quaking hand into his and he grasped it firmly, pumping it up and down a few times. Chell smiled. She liked him; he was warm and friendly and gave off a welcoming air unlike her caretakers of the past. He grinned back at her and then released her hand, retreating to the foot of the bed. He picked up the clipboard hanging off the edge and flipped a few pages in, scanning the notes Shelly had jotted down earlier.

"Well well, it seems you've had a rough couple of weeks," he mused as he read her chart, "let's see what you've got here; a few broken ribs, internal bleeding, a linear skull fracture - that had to hurt - hairline fractures in your left wrist and several fractures in both of your ankles, a few gunshot wounds, burns, severe bruising, and plenty of cuts and scrapes."

Chell swallowed. She had the left Aperture a little battered and bruised, but this severely? There was no way. There was no question now that her memory remained impaired about what exactly had happened to her post-Aperture.

Dr. Patterson set the chart back down and took a step closer to her, "Fortunately, those things were pretty easy to fix. We stitched you, bandaged you, and gave you plenty of nutrients. But the poison has been much harder to treat."

_Poison?_ Aside from the neurotoxin, Chell couldn't remember any other occasion she had been exposed to poison. The equipment at Aperture was not poisonous as far as she knew, and she hadn't come in contact with any gasses or liquids aside from the gels...

Chell sighed. That was it- the gels. Cave Johnson's prerecorded messages came flooding back to her, listing off all the side-effects of the gels in that brash, unconcerned voice of his. He had _died_ from the poison in conversion gel! She had been drenched in all three varieties multiple times.

"Lucky for you, this hospital developed a very effective treatment years ago after the Combine attacks for people exposed to headcrab toxin. We've managed to get quite a bit out already, but you will still need several more treatments before you're in the clear. As a result of the effects of the poison and the harsh treatments your body is very, _very _weak and it's of the utmost importance that you remain calm and don't push yourself in any way. If you reopen any of the wounds in your current state you could very well bleed to death."

Chell nodded frantically, prepared to follow their instructions without hesitation. She was finally free, and she wasn't going to die now. Nurse Shelly patted her hand comfortingly as the doctor gave her a brief physical. He shined a light in her eyes, listened to heart and breathing, and checked her bandages. Once he was sure she was in a stable condition for the moment he straightened up and draped his stethoscope across his shoulders.

"Alright, well, you look fine for now. We'll wake you up for your treatments tomorrow morning, but for the time being just try to get some rest. In your condition rest is one of the best things for you," he informed her, turning on his heel to leave, "I'll check up on you tomorrow."

He shut the door with a click and Shelly glanced at her watch.

"Oh my!" she exclaimed, placing a hand on her cheek, "My shift ended 45 minutes ago! My fiancée is going to be so upset I missed dinner."

_Fiancée_. The word triggered more memories buried deep in Chell's mind. So this girl was in a romantic relationship. She would be getting married soon. But she looked so young! She couldn't have been any older than Chell herself. It dawned on her that she didn't actually know her own age. If one didn't count the years spent in stasis, then she was probably in her early twenties. But that was only an estimation. Was Chell also of marrying age? She couldn't get married yet! She hadn't even had a boyfriend, or at least she hadn't had one she could remember.

Meanwhile, instead of rushing home to her fiancée, Shelly picked up the cup from earlier and guided it toward Chell's mouth. Chell looked up at her, confused, and Shelly giggled.

"Eric can wait! Right now you are my priority and you're thirsty!" She nudged the straw to Chell's lips, "Drink up."

Chell pulled the little tube into her mouth and sucked, relishing the sensation of cold, clean water spreading across her tongue. In the facility she was lucky if she got a dribble of murky lukewarm dredge from one of the fountains in the hallways. This tasted like liquid heaven in comparison. She began to gulp at it with such vigor that Shelly had to remind her several times to slow down or her weak system would get overwhelmed. When she finished off the first glass, the nurse quickly poured her a second, then a third. After the last one she insisted that Chell go to bed. Begrudgingly, she complied.

Shelly helped lay her back down and arranged the pillows in a comfortable stack before dimming the lights.

"I'll see you in the morning."

She shut the door with a soft _click_, and Chell was once again alone. She closed her eyes and tried to compel her weary body to sleep, but her efforts were to no avail. Her mind swam with all the new information she had received but what plagued her the most was the question of what had happened to her in between the escape from Aperture and now.

She forced her thoughts to shut down. She could mull over everything later, but right now what she needed was sleep. And that was exactly what she did.

She awoke to pain.

Pain like she had never felt before. Her body ached so intensely that she could do nothing but lie there paralyzed. Each breath was more excruciating than the last.

She heard the door open and prayed that it was a doctor or nurse coming to her rescue. To her relief, Shelly's cheery voice sang out a morning greeting.

"Good morning!" the voice chirped close to the bed. From the sound of rustling fabric Chell assumed that she was checking all of the equipment.

"Oh shit! Your morphine drip ran dry. Whatever nurse was assigned to you last night is an idiot! How could she not refill your drip?" The blond stamped her foot in frustration, "Oh, there is going to be hell to pay for this! You must be in a lot of pain. I'll be right back with some more."

_Thank God!_ Chell thought. The few minutes spent waiting for the nurse to return felt like several, miserable hours, until finally she heard footsteps that meant salvation had arrived. There was a crinkling sound as she changed out the bags, and in a few minutes Chell felt the sweet sensation of relief as her pain melted away. She opened her eyes to see Shelly pouring a glass of water. Chell drank it thirstily, downing another three glasses before Shelly once again put the kibosh on it.

Chell felt a pressing need from her bladder, and she motioned to Shelly, pointing frantically in that direction.

"What is it?"

Chell keep pointing directly at the area,

"Do you need to pee?" The nurse asked, "Oops, sorry, 'pee' isn't a very professional term. Do you need to urinate?"

Chell grimaced at the term but nodded urgently.

Shelly grasped Chell's arms and helped her stand. Chell nearly toppled over the moment she was upright. It took her by surprise just how weak she was. Days before she had been jumping down massive pits and leaping through portals. Now she needed help just to walk a few feet to the bathroom. Shelly dragged the pole holding the morphine drip behind them and placed it next to the toilet once Chell was seated. The nurse refused to close the door all the way, and stood right outside the bathroom in case there were any complications.

After relieving herself, Chell placed her hands on the sink and was able to haul herself onto her feet. She staggered and nearly crashed into the wall, but after a moment was able to steady herself by grasping onto the edge of the basin. She looked in the mirror and was absolutely mortified at her reflection. There was no way that was her. The person staring back at her looked more like a zombie from a horror film than a woman in the prime of her life.

Her skin was a sickly, unnatural shade of pale grey. Dark shadows sat beneath dull, lifeless eyes. Her cheeks were hollow, her lips cracked, and her hair frazzled. It was much shorter now, reaching just below her shoulders. She lifted a strand to study it. Shelly entered the room and frowned.

"I'm sorry about your hair," she said glancing at the mop of brown on Chell's head, "a lot of it was singed so I cut off several inches. I did the best I could, but I'm not a very good hairstylist."

Chell dropped the hair, and continued studying herself. A swirl of purple and green bruises spread down her arms and peeked out the gown. Tentatively she reached back and pulled at the bow tied at the nape of her neck. The flimsy material fell to the ground and she was confronted with the image of her damaged body.

Similar bruises stretched across her chest and abdomen in large ugly patches. Bandages were taped onto her ribcage where there were several large gashes crisscrossed with stitches. She looked down at her legs and saw lines of scabbed over burns where the thermal discouragement beam had made contact. Her feet were contorted from prolonged use of the long-fall boots and there were callouses where the strap had dug into her shins. Smaller cuts and scrapes were smattered across the entirety of her slight frame that had somehow become even slighter. It looked like she hadn't eaten in weeks.

Chell had never cared much about her appearance. She'd had more important things to worry about. But standing there, looking at her features marred with wounds and scars, she felt disgusted. She wanted to cry, but was too shocked to do so. Shelly silently bent down and lifted the gown off the floor. She helped Chell push her limbs through the sleeve and tied the knot in the back. Wordlessly, she helped her back to her bed and laid her down.

"You know," she said after a few silent minutes of Chell staring blankly at the wall, "this is just temporary. You'll have a few scars when you're healed up, but the rest of you will look very much the same as before. It looks a lot worse than it actually is, I promise."

Chell looked at her, despair evident in her sullen eyes. Shelly's eyebrows knitted together in pity while she stood there for a few moments, then trotted out of the room and returned clutching something in her hand. She held up a bristled object Chell immediately recognized as a hairbrush.

"I can't do much," she said as she sat on the edge of Chell's bed, "but I can at least brush your hair."

With gentle strokes she ran the brush down the length of Chell's hair, untangling a multitude of knots along the way. She sat like this for quite a while, both of them silent, as the nurse tried to coax Chell's thick hair into some semblance of order.

"Done!" Shelly declared triumphantly after a while, "You have great hair. Nice and thick, and really silky."

Chell reached around and ran her fingers down her scalp. She could hardly believe that unruly mop she had seen earlier felt this smooth now. Shelly was a master with a hairbrush. Chell turned toward the kind lady and gave her a small smile of appreciation.

"Anytime, Chell," She said.

Chell balked at her. How did she know her name? She certainly hadn't told her and it wasn't liked she had any I.D. on her.

"What is it?" Shelly asked.

Chell pointed at the nurse then back at herself, then crinkled her eyebrows in exaggerated confusion.

"How do I know you? No, no, um, how do I know your name?" Shelly guessed.

Chell nodded.

"Wheatley told me. He said he saw your first name in your file back in the labs. No last name though."

What? Wheatley? He was in space, or at least he was the last time she saw him. She gave Shelly a confused look again.

"Don't tell me you don't remember Wheatley!" Shelly cried: "He was the one that carried you to help!"

How could Wheatley carry her? He was a sphere hardly larger than her head.

Shelly rambled on about Wheatley, "It's amazing! He was able to get help even though he was injured and had extreme muscle atrophy. Seriously, it was as though his muscles hadn't been used in years, yet he was somehow able to travel miles with you out like a light. I'm telling you, adrenaline can do some pretty crazy things in life or death situations."

Now Chell was hopelessly lost. Muscles? Wheatley was a robot! He didn't even have muscles.

"I haven't even told him you're awake yet! I should do that now!" She turned to leave, but Chell grabbed the back of her light pink scrubs before she got very far.

She shook her head furiously, silently pleading with her notto tell him. If Wheatley _was_ here she didn't want to see him, or talk to him, or even be in the same room with him.

He had made her believe he was her was friend. He'd gotten her hopes up by helping her escape and then once he had the power to actually make her dream come true, he punched her down a pit instead. Then, to add insult to injury, once she had made her way up from the deepest bowls of the facility he'd forced her to test for his own sick pleasure and then tried to kill her! She had trusted him, had put her faith in him, and gotten _attached _to him. In the entire facility he was the only bright spot, and he snatched that little bit of comfort away from her once he was in charge. Sure, the chassis had corrupted him somewhat, but that did not make up for everything he'd put her through.

"You don't want me to tell him?" Shelly asked, "Why not?"

Chell waved her hands angrily, but the attempt at communication went right over the nurse's head. "I'm sorry, I have no idea what you're saying. But it's probably better to wait. You have treatment in a few minutes and you'll be wiped out after that."

She patted Chell's leg. "I'm going to go do the rounds and I'll come get you when it's time for treatment."

She left, and Chell stared after her. She had absolutely no idea what was going on, but if it involved Wheatley, she didn't want to know.


	2. Chapter 2

Chell's first trip down the hall was an exciting one. Shelly put her in a wheelchair and pushed her out into the bright airy corridor. They passed lots of other people, some in chairs, some standing, some using crutches and canes. There were men and women, old people, children, teenagers, and adults. Outside the large windows tall buildings poked up as far as the eye could see. She was in a real city with real people! She was so thrilled she wanted to leap out of her chair and dance, and she _never _danced.

Shelly pushed her into a room with three tubs in it, each one filled with a transparent light green liquid.

"Alright Chell," Shelly began, "these tubs are filled with a special substance that leeches toxins out of the body. It takes a few minutes to work, but once it does it pulls the toxins out rapidly, which in turn makes the substance itself toxic. You can stay in each tub for no more than ten minutes. After the first round, we'll put you in the second tub, then the third. Then we'll be done for the day."

Shelly helped Chell undress as a second nurse entered the room. She introduced herself as Tanya. Together they helped Chell into the harsh, warm liquid. Once she had immersed herself neck deep they instructed her not to move.

"I have to warn you," Tanya said as Chell waited for the leeching to begin, "this process is very painful, but there's nothing we can do about it. Any painkillers will simply be leeched from your system, so just try to bear it."

Chell blinked nervously, but remained brave faced. She had dealt with worse.

Her skin began to tingle, and Chell glanced down to see a thin cloud of bluish smoke being expelled from her arm. The tingling intensified to a painful burn as clouds of orange and white joined the blue. Soon her entire body was leaking tri-colored smoke. The pain was no joke. It burned as if fire spouted from every pore. She grit her teeth, but a moan of anguish escaped nonetheless. It was impossible to hold back from groaning and whimpering as the torture continued.

In the background she heard Shelly faintly whispering to Tanya that these were the first sounds she'd heard Chell make, but she ignored them, focusing on just getting through the next few minutes. She felt their gloved hands reach into the toxin filled liquid and lift her from it. They made quick work of transferring her from tub to tub, where Chell was subject to the second and third rounds before she was done.

Immediately after leaving the third tub they brought her to an empty tub and sprayed her down, washing away any remains of the substance and the toxins it contained before toweling her off and dressing her in a fresh gown. The treatments had caused the morphine to leave her system, and they immediately hooked her up to a new drip so she wouldn't have to endure the pain on the way back to her own room.

Chell slumped down in the chair as Shelly wheeled her back down the hall. Once they were back in her room the nurses had to lift her onto the bed because she was physically too exhausted to stand. She was asleep in minutes and stayed asleep until evening when Dr. Patterson came back for another physical. Shelly changed her bandages, gave her water, and then Chell was allowed to go back to sleep.

This was the routine for the next three days. Each day Chell woke up feeling stronger, becoming a bit less gray and a bit more flesh toned with every treatment. That evening, as Shelly changed her bandages, she excitedly informed Chell she would only need 3 or 4 more treatments before the toxins were completely removed from her system. Chell sighed with relief. The end was in sight.

Shelly was tying the knot on the back of Chell's gown when they heard a voice coming down the hall. The loud Bristolian voice was all too familiar, and it was calling _her _name. Her muscles seized up as she heard it getting closer and closer, until finally it was right outside the door. She gulped, and in the same moment the door burst open to reveal a tall, pale, gangly man in loose pajamas.

Chell did not recognize him in the slightest. He towered over her, at least 6 feet tall. The unruly ash blond hair that covered his head complemented his gawky, spindly limbs. He had a bright smile and large, white teeth that almost gleamed in the dim room. His nose was average, not too small and not too big. A pair of black-rimmed glasses was perched on his nose, sitting slightly askew, and that's when Chell noticed his eyes. They were blue, a bright, startling, cerulean blue. She clapped her hand over her gaping mouth. She had seen that shade of blue in _his _optic more times than she could count. It was _him. _

_ "Chell!"_ he burst out excitedly, "You're alive! Wow, I gotta say, you look bloody _awful- _I mean, I haven't been, you know, human for very long but from what I've observed so far grey isn't exactly a _normal _skin color. No-Not to say you aren't normal, but before you..."

Oh yeah, it was _definitely_ him. Only Wheatley had the ability to ramble in such a tactless manner at such an inopportune time. A million questions ran through her mind. How was this possible? When did it happen? Where did his body come from? She was confused and sad and curious and horrified and thrilled and a million others emotions, but the one that stood out above them all was _anger. _She was pissed, and as he took another step toward her she lunged at him full force.

"Chell!" Shelly shrieked, scrambling to restrain her.

Wheatley stumbled backward nearly tripping over his own feet as she came flying at him. But before she could lay her hands on him she was reminded of her numerous injuries as she collapsed to the ground with a violent coughing fit. Chell's body heaved as blood spattered to the floor around her with each hack. Shelly worriedly knelt down next to her.

"Oh, that's blood! That's a lot of blood! And it's coming out of her mouth! Is that normal? Is she dying?!" Wheatley yelped in a panicky voice.

"She could if she doesn't stop!" Shelly yelled.

"For God's sake then, love, do go ahead and um, just, you know, stop with all the coughing!" Wheatley yapped at her.

Shelly hissed at him, "She can't help it! I'm going have to sedate her."

Wheatley's eyes grew wide as Shelly produced another syringe.

"Oh no that's one of those bloody awful needles! Don't tell me you're going to stick her with that right now on the floo- oh yes, yes that is what you're planning to do." He rambled as Shelly stabbed the syringe into Chell.

She heard Wheatley shout in panic as she fell into the nurse's arms and passed out.

When she woke a few hours later she felt groggy and fuzzy. She leaned over and pressed the nurse call button situated on the wall next to her bed. While she waited she stared out the window, watching early morning light filter in through the cracks in the plastic blinds. The tile floor had been mopped free of her blood, she noticed.

Her night nurse, Charlotte, entered the room carrying a glass of orange liquid.

"Hey, you're awake," she noted, handing the glass to Chell, "drink this."

Chell peered into the glass warily. She had yet to drink anything but water and to her chagrin this drink slightly resembled propulsion gel. The fact the substance smelled tangy and sweet did nothing to ease her suspicions. Nevertheless, she tipped the glass back and swallowed. It tasted like it smelled, and Chell grinned. This was delicious!

"It's orange juice," Charlotte told her, "it will help you feel better. You lost of lot of blood earlier. We had to give you an infusion."

Chell finished her juice and handed the glass to Charlotte. Upon hearing that last night's scuffle had necessitated a blood transfusion Chell was filled with rage. All he did was cause problems for her! At long last she was free, but he just_ had_ to show up. Wheatley was a piece of her painful past that she would rather forget. Unfortunately, she got the feeling that he would, as usual, pester her mercilessly.

Charlotte sat down on the edge of Chell's bed after doing a quick check up.

"So... seems like you and that Wheatley guy had some sort of a falling out. Usually when people attack other people they don't like them very much."

Chell snorted and rolled her eyes as if to say, _that's the understatement of a century._

"What exactly did he do to you?" Charlotte asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.

Chell gave her a blank stare. Did she really expect her to be able to answer that?

Charlotte blushed, "Right you, um, you can't talk. Sorry."

Chell shrugged, signaling that it wasn't a big deal.

"It must have been bad though? To make you that angry... he must have really messed up."

Another understatement. He tried to _murder _her. He deserved far worse than a simple beating.

Charlotte stood, empty glass in hand and went for the door.

"I'll let you get back to sleep, but don't worry, I'll make sure he doesn't get anywhere near you for a while," she promised as she left the room.

That made Chell a bit more comfortable. At least for the time being, she could rest knowing he wouldn't be standing over her, peering at her when she awoke. As she closed her eyes, all of the experiences she had shared with him replayed in her mind like a horrible movie: happy at first, as he'd burst into her relaxation chamber, chattering away cheerily, informing her about the possibility of having a "minor case of serious brain damage." There were laughs as he barely managed to relocate the chamber, and attempted to lead her around the facility.

Of course, she had done much of the directional work herself, but he'd come in handy a few times, like when he opened the secret panel in the wall (of course, he'd made her turn around before doing so). Then there was the awful memory of when they'd accidentally reactivated _her. _Chell had been certain GLaDOS had killed Wheatley, and she remembered how thrilled she was when he had popped up alive and talkative as always. When he checked up on her during testing she had always felt reassured and comforted.

Perhaps his greatest triumph was when he'd actually managed to break into one the test chambers and help her escape. Together they had navigated the inner-workings of the facility, taking out _her _defenses one by one. She had chuckled to herself when he "hacked" the door (by smashing it in).

But it all came crashing down when she had been foolish enough to push that damn stalemate button and allow the core transfer to happen. The powerful programming of the chassis had instantly corrupted him to the point of accusing her of _using _him to escape. His words cut through her like a dagger. And to top it off he pushed her down a pit with her nemesis. When she had finally crawled back up to the enrichment center he made it his sole purpose to exterminate her. He had tried everything; mashy spike plates, destroying platforms, turrets, and at one point he even tried to convince her to kill herself. But she made it to his chamber where he forced her to attack him.

Then, after all that, when she was sucked into the vacuum of space hanging on to him to keep from flying to her death he yelled at her to let go of him! He only cared for himself, that's for certain. Chell felt like a fool for ever trusting him in the first place. She should have known better than to trust anything that came from that retched place.

But she couldn't remember anyone from her life prior to Aperture. She only knew AI's. And they always let her down.

Chell sighed and buried her head deep into her pillow. Thinking about all of this made her feel like there was a deep pit of despair in her abdomen. She wanted to forget him. All he would ever be to her is a backstabbing son of a bitch.

She wanted nothing to do with him. And with that, she fell asleep.

It was a beautiful day. The sun was high in the sky, illuminating the sea of golden wheat oscillating in the gentle breeze. The air was warm and dry and there wasn't a cloud and in the periwinkle blue sky. Miles away, the wheat bled into a thick forest full of hunter green pines that pierced the sky where Chell was dragging herself and her worn down companion cube to the edge of a long expanse of cracked black asphalt.

It was a road. Chell recognized it, having seen one leading away from the Aperture parking lot after her first battle with a murderous artificial intelligence. She knew that roads led to more humans, and that was exactly what she wanted to find..

She scooted over to her companion cube. With a sigh, she threw her arms around the cold edges of the cube and leaned her head against it. Sometimes, if she was lucky, she could hear a sweet melody tinkling from the inside of the cube. Today all she heard was static.

Suddenly there was a crackle in the frequency, and she could hear muffled voices. Her eyebrows knit in confusion and she leaned closer.

"Wh-What are you doing?", Wheatley's nervous chattering blasted into her ears, "Why did you bring me back here? Don't get me wrong, I'm definitely glad to be out of space- it's dreadfully boring, space, not sure what all the excitement is about, just a bunch of stars and sometimes a comet or two, not much else, really- but I'm not exactly sure what your, eh, motives would be, bringing me back, after all I kind of..."

"Oh, just SHUT UP, you insufferable little moron!" GLaDOS's cool, calm voiced hissed.

"I'm not a moron!" Wheatley huffed.

"Yes, you are. You nearly destroyed my entire facility with your incompetence. You are without a doubt the biggest moron in existence. So much so that I even made a note of it in your file. Now, I warn you, do NOT give me any more trouble or you _will _regret it."

"Of-of-of, of course! Right, no problem. I'll be good I promise. I'm at your mercy," the core stammered.

"Then stop talking!" the menacing AI commanded.

"Alright, will do. No more talking from me! Just pure silence."

"What did I just say? DO NOT TALK!"

Wheatley complied and remained silent, though Chell could hear the banging of metal as he quaked in his castings.

"If you're curious as to why I went through the trouble of bringing you back here, then I'll tell you," the AI began, her voice cold as always, "I have some... unfinished business with you. You see, science is never done, and I've come up with a new experiment I'm just _dying _to try, and you fit the bill as the perfect test subject. You don't mind being forced into that role do you? You didn't seem to have much of a problem doing that to _her, _as I recall."

"Hey! That not's fair! It's not like you just asked her nicely either!" Wheatley exclaimed.

GLaDOS ignored him and continued on with her speech, "Now, I wish I could just lie and tell you that I'm doing this purely for science, but I'm not. I only have one real goal, and that, my idiotic little friend, is _revenge."_

"Re-revenge? That doesn't sound very pleasant, not pleasant at all if I'm being honest."

GLaDOS chortled menancingly, "It won't be."

Chell heard Wheatley emit a strangled cry, followed by the noise of machinery and scraping metal. Then there was nothing.

She sat up, her heart pumping in her chest. She remembered the plan of revenge GLaDOS had shared with her back when they were fighting their way through Aperture: _First, he'll spend in a year in the incinerator. Year two: cryogenic refrigeration wing. Then ten years in the chamber I built where all the robots scream at you. THEN I'll kill him._

Cold sweat prickled at the back of Chell's scalp. She was really going to do it. She was going to torture him for twelve years and then kill him. A lump formed in her throat as she thought of him, burned, frozen, then shaking in fear as the dismantled remains of his own kind screeched at him. She was still angry with him in a way that she was unable to express, but deep down a minuscule fragment of her still cared about him, at least enough that she didn't want him to go through that.

She knew that if she didn't rescue him she would be plagued with guilt for the next decade, knowing that he was being subjected to such pain and horror.

_Alright, _she decided, _I'll go save him. Once he's out I'll ditch him. He can deal with himself after that. Then I can move on with my life, guilt free. _

Ignoring the fatigue weighing her down, she scooped up her companion cube and made her way back toward the metal shack she had recently been ejected from, being careful to mark her path so she could easily find her way back afterward.

Finally, the shack came into view. Her feet froze as she neared it. Did she really want to go through with this? It had been such a struggle to get out in the first place. Was it worth the trouble just to save the bastard who had betrayed her and nearly gotten her killed?

She sighed. She had to. Even if she didn't know why she knew there was no other option. So, she settled her companion cube next to the shack and gave it an affection pat, promising she would be back soon. At least, she hoped she would.

With trembling fingers, she yanked open the door to the shack. The opening of the elevator shaft that would take her down into her own version of hell sat a few feet away from her. She stood at the edge and peered down into it. There was nothing but black, and all she could do was hope that her long-fall boots would do their job. After tightening the straps and stretching her sore muscles a few times, she took a final deep breath and jumped in.

A/N: Hey everyone! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, thank you for all the reviews and I hope you will enjoy reading this series as much as I love writing it. I would quickly like to thank my amazing editor, DarlingMillipede, for her work on this series. It wouldn't be possible without her. Thanks again, and I promise to have chapter 3 up in a few days :)


	3. Chapter 3

Air whipped around her as she plummeted down at an alarming rate. From what she remembered from her trip to the surface a few days ago, _her _chambers were located on the fifth floor down. She saw a flash of light as the first floor went by, then a second and a third. Once the fourth floor was in view she began to angle her body, and as soon as the fifth opening became visible she threw her weight to the side and shot toward it.

Her long fall boots made a valiant effort to help her land on her feet, but with the velocity she was traveling at and such a short landing time there was only so much they could do. She ended up hitting the floor with a loud _thump _and skittered a few feet before she was able to stop herself. She winced as she pushed herself up. Her head was spinning and her midsection hurt terribly. Gently, she prodded her ribcage with her fingertips and bit back a yelp as sharp pain exploded from it. They were definitely broken. Chell took a deep breath and immediately regretted it as she began wheezing and spots swam in her line of vision. Once the pain subsided a little she decided to ignore the ache and continue onwards. She had a mission, and there was no going back now.

It was disconcerting how familiar the elevator chamber felt. She had thought she would never have to lay eyes on the massive screens and steps leading up to the hallway again. Yet, here she was. Wheatley was making her life difficult yet again. She cursed her own sense of nobility.

She made her way to the metal steps and scanned the sleek white hallway carefully before proceeding. This time around she didn't have a portal gun to help her. Her only weapons were her fists, and she knew they wouldn't do much good against an Aperture creation. Fortunately, there were no blinking red cameras in sight. Security wasn't nearly as tight these days. Probably because GLaDOS assumed that with Chell gone there wasn't much danger to her in the facility anymore.

Chell tiptoed down the hall, checking every room she passed. She knew GLaDOS wouldn't keep her precious experiment very far, so she was certain Wheatley was in one of the nearby rooms. Either that, or the incinerator.

She shook her head. Not yet. She was sure she had made it in time. About a third of the way down the hall, she saw light permeating through one of the frosted glass windows. She rushed toward it, and sure enough, she could see Wheatley's hull resting on a table, his optic facing away from her. She burst into the room and raced over to him, grabbing his metal body and lifting him off the table.

To her surprise he didn't react to the movement at all. In fact, he was completely silent. Chell spun him around and saw that his shutters were closed. She pushed them apart and gasped, as they revealed nothing but a grey circle. His familiar blue eye was gone! Chell wondered if maybe he was in some sort of sleep mode. Of course, her poking and prodding would have certainly woken him. She suddenly became aware of another unsettling detail. His hull, usually warm and buzzing with activity, was cold as ice and completely motionless. Panic began to set in. Had he already been killed?

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a strange object in her field of vision. She turned and nearly dropped Wheatley's hull in shock. There, lying on the table was a body. A _human _body. It was male, stark naked, and horribly skinny. She could see his ribs underneath his nearly sheet white skin. His hair and body were slick with some sort of liquid, but what really caught her attention were his eyes. They were wide open, unblinking, and his pupils were so dilated she could barely make out the tiniest sliver of blue around them. They flicked back and forth with the speed of hummingbird's wings, absorbing whatever information was being displayed on the screen above him.

Chell lowered herself to the floor and tried to make out the flashing images that kept popping up on the screen. She was able to make out a few glimpses of the facility, GLaDOs, and then of herself. Suddenly, she realized that these were Wheatley's memories. This screen was uploading them onto the human's brain!

Chell felt disgusted as she slowly made her way to standing. She placed Wheatley's old body onto the floor and noticed a file lying on the desk a few feet away. She picked it up and opened it, examining the sheet inside. There was a picture of the man on the table, though he looked much healthier in the photo. He had dark blond hair that stuck out in funny angles around his head. A sweet, goofy grin spread across his face displaying teeth so straight they could only have been obtained through orthodontia. His eyes were a bright, shocking blue, the same color as Wheatley's optic. He had a pair of thin wire-rim glasses to complete the cute nerdy look.

Chell pulled the picture off the page and stuck it in the pocket of her jumpsuit, flipping through the file to read the accompanying profile of the man attached to it. It read:

**Name: Wheatley Adam Pendleton**

**Age: 23**

**Occupation: Aperture Science Laboratory Assistant**

**Marital Status: Single**

**Background Information**

**Parents: Mr. Adam Pendleton and Mrs. Rebecca Pendleton (both deceased)**

**Siblings: None**

**Close Relatives of Note: N/A**

**Born: March 17, 1980**

**Birthplace: Bristol, Great Britain**

**Education: Northwestern University (Graduate: 2007)**

**Current Residence: Aperture Science Employee Housing**

**Physical Information**

**Height: 6 feet, 3 inches**

**Weight: 181 lbs**

**Race: Caucasian**

**Eye Color: Blue**

**Hair Color: Blonde**

**Scars: N/A**

**Piercings: N/A**

**Notes: Vision impaired (uses corrective lenses)**

**Additional Notes:**

**Subject displays hyperactive tendencies. Average job performance. Clumsy. Eager to please.**

**Update:**

**Experiment successful. Subject consciousness transferred to I.D. core, memories successfully suppressed. Body in long-term storage**

Attached to the page were copies of his birth certificate, driver's license, high school and college diplomas, medical records, and his company issued I.D. card. Chell could hardly believe what she was reading. Wheatley had been a human prior to being a core! If she weren't reading the documents she wouldn't have believed it possible. But the proof was in her hands and on the table. That explained a lot. Wheatley's personality, even at its worst, had always seemed a little too human to have been created in a lab. And it wasn't, after all.

He was their perfect test subject. An eager to please worker who would blindly obey them without question. He had no close living relatives to report him missing, and lived on the company premises.

Suddenly, Chell felt horrible for him. He clearly had no idea about any of this. Chell knew more about him than he did. The thought almost made her want to shed tears for him. But then she remembered all the horrible things he'd done to her and that desire quickly dissipated. However, despite his previous actions she found herself pitying him. But why had GLaDOS put him back in his original body?

_Revenge. _She still wanted to go through with her original plan, but with him in human form so he would be forced to experience it with the shock of real, genuine pain, not the simulated version from his core body. Chell was very glad she had come back for him now.

She folded the papers and shoved the thick square into her pocket. Then she heard a groan. As she glanced back she noticed the screen had been removed, and Wheatley's eyes were tightly closed. He lifted a hand and placed it on his forehead.

"Oh, maaan alive, what happened to me..." he moaned, "I feel bloody terrible..."

His eyelids flickered opened and he scanned the room. When he noticed her standing off to the side, his mouth dropped open.

"You... what.. what are you doing here?!" he asked, his voice full of shock, "She's gonna kill you, mate, if she sees you. Or maybe not, she does kinda seem to like you now... But really, what on EARTH are you doing here? Oh no- please don't tell me _she_ brought you here to kill me! I mean, I deserve it, sure, and I have to admit that would be a _pretty _good method of getting revenge, pretty genius actually, but, just on the off chance that that's not the reason you're here, don't get any ideas. In fact, just disregard everything I just said. So, just to clarify, if she didn't send you here to kill me, then don't kill me. And, even if she did, I'd really appreciate it if you still wouldn't, um, kill me."

Chell stared at him, wide eyed, her mouth slightly hanging open.

"Uhh, I'm sorry, but, not to be rude, but you're staring at me, a bit creepy I might add, and you're just kind of, well, gaping and I hafta' say I'm not really sure why."

He had no idea that he was human! Chell rolled her eyes. What did she expect? He always had been dense.

"See, I actually expected you to have a bit more of an angry expression considering, well you know why, no need to revisit that episode, but the look on your face is more of a surprised one," he continued, still just laying there, oblivious to his dramatic transformation, "I mean, I'm no expression expert, but I'm fairly certain that emotion there is surprise."

Chell took a cautious step toward him, then another. His eyes widened in alarm as she drew nearer and he flinched a bit away from her.

"What are you doing there, love? Walking very slowly toward me, with that determined look in your eye... it's making me a tad nervous..." He trailed off as she reached him.

She began to reach for his arm, and he started whimpering.

"Oh you ARE going to kill me, aren't you!" Suddenly, his eyes filled with an overwhelming sadness, "you know what, just do it. I won't even ask you to make it quick, as is usually customary from the victim in these scenarios, because I completely deserve it. I really, really do. In fact, drag it out. Really enjoy yourself. I should atone for my wrong, eh, wrongdoings, for what I've done to you."

Chell shook her head at him, but he kept talking.

"Just, before you do it, let me fully apologize. When I was up there, I had a lot of time to replay everything, in high definition I might add, damn digital memory software, but anyway I viewed my actions with some good ol' fashioned perspective and afterward I felt just horrid, really I did. I said horrible, terrible things to you, none of which were true by the way, and I tried to kill you, proper murder you. Many times! It was terribly mean. In fact mean doesn't even begin to describe it, and there is no possible way I could apologize enough. I broke my promise and that was just truly wretched of me, and then when you add in everything else... well it's pretty bad. But you already know that."

"But, for the past few days all I have wanted to do is apologize to you. Honestly, it's all I've been thinking about up there. It was just me and my guilt. Oh, and the space core, but he's pretty boring, a real broken record, that one. Just a whole lot of screaming 'SPAACE'. But that's a different story. I'm just so glad I have the chance to apologize. And you don't have to forgive me, in fact you probably shouldn't because I really don't deserve it, but you deserve my most heartfelt apology. So, yeah, I'm really, really, REALLY sorry."

Tears brimmed in his eyes, and Chell felt her heart squeeze. The poor man looked so pathetic, lying there buck naked covered in goo and misty eyed. To make the situation even more pitiful he had no idea he was even human. Chell finally couldn't take it anymore so she reached down, grabbed his hand, and shoved it in front of his face so he could see.

At first, the blonde's eyebrows knit together in confusion. "Yes, that's a hand. Quite a large hand, but still a human hand," he glanced upward at Chell, "Just out of curiosity, where did you get a hand? I know it's not your hand, your hands are smaller and prettier and darker, and I don't recall having spare human hands just lying around for decoration."

Chell lifted her index finger and placed it on his palm. His eyes followed it as she slowly trailed it down the length of his arm, across his shoulder, and onto his chest. Then she made it go up his chest and neck, onto his face, and finally right smack dab it the middle of his eyes. It took a few moments but eventually he shrieked, as he understood that the arm was attached to a body, and that he was in that body.

"AHHHH!" he cried, bursting upright, "I'm a-a-a-a-a- a human! But how? I-I didn't even know we had other humans here! I let all the test subjects die- well, I didn't just let them die, I tried to fix it but, well, this isn't really important now is it?"

Chell shook her head, and he continued, "This can't be real can it? Quick let me pinch you! Or is it the other way 'round? You know what, we can both pinch each other, and if its hurts us both, then this is not a dream! Ok, so perhaps on the count of three? I'll pinch you and you pinch me? Ok one, two.."

Before he could finish, Chell cut him off by slapping him firmly across the face. He placed a hand on the offending cheek and stared at her, dumbstruck, as she fixed him with her very best get ahold of yourself expression. She jabbed a finger in the direction of _her_ chamber, directly down the hall from them. He was going to alert her to their presence if he kept this up! After a moment or two he collected himself.

"Thanks, I needed that," he said, still rubbing his cheek. "That stings right proper good though. Look out human men, this one has quiet the slap, she does! Definitely more powerful than a little pinch, so it's pretty safe to say that I am not in a dream after all, and that somehow I have indeed been placed into a human body."

Chell nodded seizing his arm again and showing him. But something caught her eye.

"Yes, yes I know I have arms now," Wheatley said as she examined the limb, "they are a normal part of human anatomy, from what I understand. All the humans I've seen had two, just like this. Well not exactly the same, these ones are longer and thinner than yours are..."

Chell zeroed in on a dark patch just barely visible beneath his pale forearm skin. She ran her fingers over it, feeling the slight raise in the skin. It was square shaped and definitely not a natural part of his arm. It was a computer chip, she realized with dismay. It could be transmitting anything to GLaDOS right at this moment! His vital signs, his location, his brain activity... she was probably getting updates on all of it.

Her hand flew to her own arm. If he had one, who was to say that she didn't? She squeezed her skin and to her extreme horror felt a slight bump in the same area as Wheatley's. How had she not noticed it before? All this time she had been watching her, monitoring her, keeping tabs on her exact location. If they wanted any chance at escaping it had to be removed.

Chell frantically began searching the room for any sort of sharp object while Wheatley watched her, puzzled.

"What are you looking for? Maybe some kind of manual for this body? Because let me tell you that would be just tremendous, you know, because I haven't got the slightest clue how to operate it really... Don't know how to walk or anything, that's for sure, and I know humans have a lot of um, functions, they have to perform to keep their bodies running so a little help learning how to do those functions would be greatly appreciated."

In a rusty metal locker Chell was relieved to find an assortment of medical equipment, a scalpel among them. She uncapped the blade and turned to face Wheatley, who shuddered at the sight of the small knife.

"Wha- what have you got that for?", he stuttered as she closed the distance between them, "I thought you weren't going to kill me. Of course, you never said you wouldn't, you don't really say anything, but you seemed like you weren't going to, however it appears that you are coming closer with that little blade thingy pointed at me so you probably are going to but, hang on, what are you doing?"

Chell held her arm away from her body, underside up, and held up the blade.

"Christ, love, what in blazes are you trying to do?!", he reached out and grabbed her hand, attempting to force it away from her arm, "you look positively mental, holding that knife like that!"

In response, Chell pointed to his chip, then back at her arm. He fingered the square mound in his arm, his eyes mirroring her fear as he realized what is was.

"Bloody hell- you have one too?"

She nodded, motioning to her forearm.

Wheatley gulped. Even he knew this wasn't good for them.

"Wh-what do you think we should do?" He stammered, sweat beading on his brow.

Chell wiggled the blade in her fingertips, and he nodded. There was no other solution.

"J-just, just stab it in then? Do you think it'll work?"

Chell shrugged, but she couldn't think of any better ideas. She bit her lip and plunged the blade into her skin. Wheatley shrieked.

"Oh, oh good lord, that looks really painful! It's painful isn't it? Of course it is! Do you think it worked? Is it broken?"

"No, and what a shame. All that pain for nothing." Said a familiar computerized voice.

Chell and Wheatley locked eyes, frozen with fear. It was too late- she had already found them. The scalpel fell from Chell's grasp. It skittered and slid beneath the desk, leaving a bloody trail in its wake.

"I thought I told you never to come back here. Well, I guess you were never very good at taking direction. I must say, I'm surprised you would put yourself at risk for this little piece of garbage."

Chell lunged for the door, but it was already locked.

"Sure, you've never been the sharpest tool in the shed, but I was certain you were at least smart enough to know that if someone tries to murder you, they aren't your friend."

Chell snorted. That was funny, considering how many times she had tried to kill her!

"But, being charitable as I am, I've decided to let you go. So just leave the moron and get on with your pathetic life. I promise, you're much better off without him."

Chell shook her head. She'd come this far- she wasn't going to give up now.

"Really? I'm giving you a second chance at freedom, and you want to throw it away for him?"

Chell nodded.

"Don't make me do this," GLaDOS pleaded, regaining her human tone for just a second, "Just leave."

Chell stood her ground. The AI sighed over the speakers, and suddenly Chell saw two large figures appear in front of the room.

"I didn't want things to come to this. But you've given me no choice."

The burst swung open, revealing two menacingly large robots that glared at them with gleaming purple eyes.

"Please assume the party escort position," they requested in cold monotone voices.

Chell took a step backward, but was quickly seized by large metal claws. She struggled aimlessly against the hold as the robots carried her and a petrified Wheatley down the long corridor to the central AI chamber. The circular door slid open and the robots tossed the humans onto the floor carelessly.

Chell glanced up, and was confronted by the glaring yellow eye of a nemesis-turned friend-turned nemesis. She leapt to her feet, adopting her usual defensive stance as Wheatley scrabbled around on the floor trying to get up. The AI swung herself closer to him, and began to laugh.

"You're even more useless as a human. You can't even stand. And you-" she swung to face Chell, "I underestimated your foolishness. I let you go. I gave you your precious freedom. And how do you repay me? By coming back here to ruin my revenge against the moron who almost killed us both."

"Don't listen to her! You're doing the right thing here, saving me! You'll get so much good- good, um, karma." Wheatley said, looking up at her with eyes that said _please don't leave me here alone_.

"You just shut up!" GLaDOS commanded the core-turned-human, "and put this on! Your nakedness disgusts me."

An orange jumpsuit fluttered down from the ceiling and Wheatley reached for it, struggling to get his limbs through the holes.

Chell snorted, and glared at GLaDOS. She wasn't going to leave him now. She would escape with him in tow and she knew just how to do it. Chell spun on her heels and sprinted toward the wall, pounding on the panels around the room.

"Have you lost you're mind?" GLaDOS asked, "The portal device isn't going to pop out of one of those, no matter how hard you hit them."

Chell ignored her. She wasn't looking for the portal device- and she knew for a fact that what she was searching for was behind one of these panels. Behind her, the floor trembled and Chell turned just in time to see GLaDOS setting up a firing squad of turrets.

"Fine," the AI said, "if you refuse to obey me, then I'm going to have to kill you. Just remember, you brought this on yourself."

The room was filled with bright red lights as the turrets' lasers flickered on, one by one, and in seconds they were all trained on her. Chell ducked to avoid them, but she was too late. Bullets grazed her arms and legs, splattering blood on the spotless panels like modern art. Chell ignored the pain and made her way around the room, leaping and ducking like a madwoman. She pounded on another panel and felt it loosen up. Using her iron grip, she pried it open just enough to glimpse the stairwell behind it that would lead to her goal: the main breaker room.

While Chell had been busy simultaneously searching the walls and trying to avoid the gunfire, GLaDOS had set up a new group of turrets, all facing Wheatley. He had just barely managed to get to his feet when the automations focused their deadly lasers in on him. Chell was filled with dread as she realized there was no way he could avoid them in his current state. Adrenaline spiked through her veins as she sprinted toward him and launched herself headfirst at the sleek white machines, knocking them over like dominoes just as they began to fire.

She landed on her already broken ribs and cried out in pain. She heard a shriek from Wheatley as a large metal claw descended from the ceiling and snatched her up, crushing her ribcage even more. Tears streamed unbidden down her face as blood dripped onto the floor from her wounds.

"Look at what you've done to yourself, all for the sake of that idiot," GLaDOS taunted, dangling her in front of him, "Now, I'm going to make you watch me kill him."

Chell began flailing wildly, trying to get free to save him, but it was no use. She was too weak. She watched helplessly as a machine gun descended from the ceiling, aiming right at the gangly man's body. She screwed her eyes shut, wishing she could do the same with her ears; she didn't want to hear him scream.

But then the unthinkable happened. In a sudden burst of adrenaline and pure human instinct, Wheatley sprang out of the line of fire. He was still clumsy, and a few bullets managed to hit him in non-vital areas, but much to Chell's surprise he didn't immediately collapse in pain. Instead, he grit his teeth and kept moving. Then, like a seasoned test subject, he picked up one of the still active turrets and turned it on GLaDOS.

The AI was so surprised at his random act of genius that she had no time to react, and bullets burst several wires in her chassis. Chell saw the evil yellow light flicker out and the massive robot body go limp. The claw released Chell and she dropped to the floor. Wheatley sprinted over to her, his hands fluttering over her blood soaked clothes like nervous birds.

"Oh God! Are you alright? You're shot everywhere! Seriously, this does not look good. B-but, I mean you're not like, dying, or anything. Well, actually, you might die from this if you don't get treated, but um, maybe we'll find a doctor robot or something lying around!"

Chell ignored him and made her way over the panel hiding the stairwell. Wheatley joined her, and she pointed at the chassis urgently.

"Ah, yeah, you saw that, right? My little act of heroism? I think I did pretty well, if I do say so myself. But yeah, I knew where the main power cords were from when I um, you know. So I knew it would take her down. It won't hold for very long though. Those blasted nanobots will have her fully repaired in less than hour, probably."

Chell nodded. An hour was plenty of time, if she could get this damned panel off the wall. She glanced down and was struck with an idea. She removed one of her long fall boots and wedged the curved metal spring behind the panel and pushed, using it as a makeshift crowbar. To her delight, the metal pane popped off and she was able to crawl through the square space in the wall. She turned and motioned for Wheatley to follow. He eyed the cramped space warily but nonetheless tried to wedge his long body through it. Chell grabbed his wrists and pulled, landing him face first on the other side.

"A little help?" he asked, his voice muffled by the tile.

Chell hoisted him to his feet and he was hot on her heels as they ran down the flights of stairs. They burst into the main breaker room, and Chell was filled with a sudden wave of nostalgia as she remembered her first time in here, back when Wheatley was still a core.

"Ah, the main breaker room. I remember when we were here, and you plugged me into that stick, right there, and then we, well actually it was mostly me, accidently turned her on..." Wheatley recounted as Chell scanned the walls.

"You're looking for the lift switch, yeah?"

Chell nodded, and he looked around.

"Crap, well, I wish I could help you look, but it seems I got stuck with defect eyes," he squinted as he peered around the small space, "I can't read any of those high up switches."

Chell sighed. He wouldn't be much help to her now. She continued to search until her eyes fell upon the words she'd been hoping to see: **Surface Elevator- C.C. Level**

Unfortunately, the switch was at least 10 feet off the ground. They had certainly made it difficult to reach. She looked over at Wheatley, and realized that if he lifted her up she would easily be able to reach it. However, she was unsure if he could support her weight, even with the adrenaline rush coursing through his system. But they wouldn't know if they didn't try right?

She waved to him and he turned to her.

"What is it? Did you find it?"

She nodded and pointed to the place.

His face lit up, "Ah, brilliant! Job well done! Eh, but wait, that is quite high up, isn't it? I know you're a good jumper, but I don't think even you can jump that high."

She shook her head and put her hands on his shoulders, forcing him down to his knees. Then she went around to his backside and slung her legs on either side of his neck.

"What are you doing?! Are you trying to strangle me with your legs? I understand if you want to strangle me but is now really the best time for that?"

She tapped his shoulder to get his attention, then pointed her finger upwards.

"Wait- you want me to lift you, right?" she nodded and he grimaced, "I'm not sure- I could drop you, and you could break your neck, and then I'd be here alone when she woke up, plus I would probably feel guilty for your death, and it would haunt me forever, if I even managed to survive."

She continued motioning upwards, and eventually he gave in.

"Fine, but if this doesn't work, and you die, then I told you so!"

He wrapped his hands over her knees and grunted, slowly extending his legs until he was standing straight.

"Hey, I did it!" He exclaimed, as Chell wrapped her hands around the switch, "I gotta say, I kinda feel tough now. Like, hey guys, I'm a fella who can carry ladies on his shoulders! It's pretty cool, right?"

The switch was rusted from years of disuse, and Chell had to put all her strength into trying to force it up. Then, to make matters worse, Wheatley's newfound "cool guy" strength had begun to dwindle. Chell could feel his legs start to shake.

"Um, hey, not to worry you but I think I'm sort of losing my ability to uh, to hold you up so if you could just hurry along and flip that switch it would be just great."

Chell grunted, and the metal groaned in protest as she flexed harder. Wheatley's entire body was trembling now, and he started to panic.

"I can't hold on any longer! I'm gonna fall! Hurry, hurry, hurry!" he yelped.

Finally, with a loud creak, the switch gave way and flipped up. Unfortunately, right at that moment Wheatley's legs also gave out and they sent him tumbling to the floor, Chell in tow. Wheatley landed on his bony butt, but Chell wasn't so lucky. With a loud _thud_ her skull connected with the floor and she could feel warm liquid oozing out of her scalp.

"Oh fuck's sake!" Wheatley cursed, clambering over to her, "Oh no, there's blood coming from your head. No, no, no, it really did split, just like a melon, just like I said. Damn, damn, damn, this is bad!"

He gently cradled her head in his hands and turned her face to look up at him. Black dots swam in her vision, and her head flopped into his palm.

"H-h-hey. Hey lady, um can you hear me?," he crooned softly, "Chell? If you can hear me, blink twice. That's it, just two times."

She blinked twice, not wanting to open her eyelids the second time. He swallowed.

"Um, ok, so you're probably too weak to stand, I think. It looked like you were having trouble blinking, and well, that's pretty easy. So I guess it's up to me to save the day."

He looped her one of her arms behind his back and grabbed her other one to pull her up to standing. They took a few shaky steps toward the stairwell.

The announcer's voice came crackling over the intercom, "Central A.I. startup in 5 minutes"

"Shiiiit," Wheatley hissed, dragging her along faster. "We've gotta get outta here, mate! She's going to freeze this lift the moment she wakes up!"

Chell was fading fast, and her legs buckled, completely refusing to hold her weight. Wheatley tried to get her to stand a few times, but when the announcer broadcast that they now had only 4 minutes to escape he bent down to scoop her up, cradling her like a large baby. He jogged awkwardly up the stairs, fueled by fear and adrenaline. He forced her through the hole and clambered through after her, picking her up again. They tottered past GLaDOS's still lifeless body and into the circular elevator. The tube shot upwards.

"Three minutes till start up" the announcer informed them.

"Come on, come on," Wheatley muttered, as Chell looked up at him through half closed eyelids.

"Two minutes."

Wheatley banged his head against the glass repeatedly, until finally, the lift slowed as they reached the shed.

"One minute."

In a complete panic Wheatley kicked out his long leg and shattered the glass door, bursting out of the tube and shed, reaching back inside for just a moment to get the cube.

"Wow," Chell heard Wheatley whistle as he took in the sight of blue sky, white fluffy clouds, and golden fields of wheat.

He held out his hand, turning his palm up to feel warm, authentic sunlight on his skin. Wind tossed the blonde fluff on his head, and his chest rose as he gulped in a lungful of fresh, clean air.

"This is amazing, bloody fantastic..." he murmured.

Chell nodded in agreement, managing a weak smile before coughing and spitting up a mouthful of blood on his chest.

"Blimey, love," Wheatley exclaimed, "that's not a good sign, are you ok- hey, HEY!"

Chell closed her eyes, unable to resist the darkness coming over her.

"Come on, Wheats, you can do this!" Wheatley told himself, "if you don't she'll die, and it'll be your fault!"

Long grass tickled her legs. Chell was slung across Wheatley's back, her face nestled into the crook of his neck. She could smell sweat clinging to his collar. It burned her nose. She sniffled, and drooled on his shoulder as she went back to sleep.

"Alright, I know it hurts, and, and you just want to say 'fuck it, I'm done!' but no! This is life or death! Time to be a hero! You can sleep when she's safe!"

Wheatley was still giving himself pep talks when she opened her eyes who knows how many hours later. She peeked out of the corner of her eye, and saw a valley coming into view. Buildings loomed in the distance. A city! Maybe Wheatley would make it after all. _I'll be damned.._. she thought as she drifted off.

"You did it, Wheatley," he mumbled, his voice weak, "she's got help now, you did it, mate."

It was hard to hear him over the beating of rotors. Chell could see him across from her, sitting on a gurney, as attendants swarmed around him, dabbing at his wounds, feeding tubes into his arms. Similar people rushed around her, fiddling with her.

They all shouted things like, "What a miracle", and "I can't believe he managed it", and saying scary things like, "she's in critical condition", "I don't know if she'll make it", "she's fading fast.'

Wheatley reached out and grabbed one of the attendant's wrists weakly.

"She'll be alright, won't she? She's going to be ok? Tell me she'll be ok?" he whimpered, "I can't live if she dies! I won't be able to go on by myself!"

"I'm sorry, sir, but it's hard to say. We're taking you guys to the big hospital in Chicago. There they'll be able to best treat the poisoning in her system. It just depends on if she can fight long enough to make it there."

She saw a limp, lopsided grin crawl its way onto his face.

"Oh, she'll be fine then," he said, "she's the best fighter I know. She ranked in the highest percentile in tenacity..."

She grinned, _damn right..._


	4. Chapter 4

Chell awoke in a cold sweat.

Whoa, she thought, what was that? A dream?

No, no it was way too realistic to be a dream. She lifted her arm, turned it over, and sure enough, a short white scar puckered up over the area where the chip had been. So it was real.

It was hard to believe Wheatley had actually been smart enough to pull off those stunts back there. Maybe in his human body he was free of the programming that made him a complete moron. Perhaps now he was only partially an idiot.

Chell was further impressed with him when, during an interview with a stony faced FBI agent, she discovered he'd actually been able to lie convincingly. Fortunately, when asked what had happened to them, he had had the good sense not to tell them every little detail. Instead, he claimed that they had been test subjects but neither of them could remember what lab it had been or what experiments had been done on them, and that the only thing he knew for sure was that they had been in cryo sleep for a very long time.

Chell went along with the story, feigning total confusion. Agent Reynolds sighed and scribbled down a few notes.

"That's disappointing," he scowled, tapping the pen against his notepad, "Originally, I assumed it was Black Mesa, but they were shut down years ago and they never really dealt with cryonics..."

Chell shrugged as if she had no idea what he was talking about.

The middle-aged man shook his head in frustration, then handed her a thick manila envelope.

"Well, never mind. If you really can't remember, there's nothing we can do," he motioned to the envelope now in Chell's hand, "In any case, we've got you all set up. In there you have forms for citizenship papers, a social security card... everything you need to get started. All we have to do is fill in your information."

Chell pulled out the thick stack of papers and examined them.

"Wheatley was able to give us your approximate age and your birthdate, and we filled out the rest with information from the hospital," the agent informed her.

According to the paper, Chell was twenty-three, was 5' 5", and weighed 115 pounds. Wheatley had learned via Aperture Files that Chell's birthdate was November 17, 1983. Of course, with the year now being 2048, Agent Reynolds had jotted it down as November 17, 2025 to avoid suspicion. Now the only spot left to fill in was her name.

"We thought you two could choose your own last names," Agent Reynolds told her, "do you have any ideas?"

Chell shrugged. Her own last name had evaded her, and the only other one she knew was Johnson, and there was no way in hell Chell was going to name herself after the man who had created that horrible place.

"Do you know any last names, Chell?" asked Shelly from the corner of the room.

Chell shook her head.

"Hmm.. well, let me list me off a few common ones, maybe you'll find one you like," Shelly paced the room as she rattled off the list, "Let's see, um Smith... Miller... no, um, Thompson... Reed, uh, Anderson..."

Anderson. That name felt familiar to her. She liked it. She motioned to Shelly, who grinned.

"You like that one? Anderson?"

Chell nodded, and Agent Reynolds wrote it down.

"Alright then, I'll send these off to be processed, and you'll be good to go," he stood to leave, "if you remember anything else let me know."

_Fat chance_, Chell thought as she smiled earnestly at him. The agent left a stack of similar papers for Wheatley with Shelly, and finally left.

Chell hadn't seen hide nor hair of Wheatley since he'd burst into her room a few days prior, but now that she remembered what had happened at Aperture, she kind of wanted to. She needed to know it wasn't just her imagination; that everything she thought to have occurred really did happen. And later that afternoon, she got her opportunity.

With her treatments finished, Chell quickly started regaining her strength. She was soon able to walk around unassisted, and began taking long strolls to build back her muscles. Chell often found herself visiting the cafe on her floor. It was small, usually empty, and had beautiful sweeping views of the city. Fascinated, she would sit by the window for hours and watch people go by on the streets.

Today however, she saw a familiar blonde sitting at the table by the large windows, his back turned to her. Chell swallowed. She still hated him, still hadn't forgiven him for everything he'd said and done to her. But now there was a sliver of pity mixed in with all the rage, and even a tiny shred of gratitude for not leaving her behind. With her head held high, she walked over and plopped herself down in the chair across from him.

His eyes widened in shock, as if he couldn't believe what was happening. He stared at her uncertainly, his mouth partially open, trying to decide what to say. He settled on:

"You look a lot less... gray."

Chell snorted and rolled her eyes.

"R-r-really, you do!" He continued, "Still a bit pale, but definitely not gray anymore! And, you don't have those shadowy things under your eyes! I had those for a while, real nasty, not becoming at all, but now we both don't have them! Still looks like you have those bruises, though. Are they as sore as they look? 'Cuz they look pretty sore to me."

Chell shrugged and tugged down on the sleeves of the robe she had over her gown. Incidentally, they were still incredibly sore, but she didn't want to turn this into a pity party. Glancing down, Chell noticed he wore a sweater over his hospital clothes that covered his wrists. But she had to know. She reached out and grabbed his arm, ignoring his squeak of surprise, and began to roll up his sleeve. A scar identical to that of hers ran down his wrist in the same location. She placed her arm next to his, comparing the marks. There was no denying it- they were the same.

"Oh, that's what you were after," he said, staring down at their arms, "Yeah, I told them all about them as soon as we got here. Had them take out those buggers right away."

His eyes, behind his newly acquired glasses, met hers.

"So, does this mean you, uh, remembered? What happened back there?" He asked nervously.

She nodded, pulling her arm off the table. He gulped and blinked nervously.

"Thank you," he said, his voice full of earnest, "If you hadn't come for me, well, I'm sure I would be going through hell right now. She really wanted to torture me, you know."

Chell nodded. She did know, she knew even better than he did.

"Yeah, I knew it was going to be bad, so I'm really, truly grateful that you, well, endangered yourself for me." He glanced away, "Although, I don't fully understand why you did it. You know, after everything I did to you."

Chell sighed and slowly shook her head. She didn't really know why either. All she knew was that she had to. An uncomfortable silence settled over the table for a few minutes, until Shelly's cheery voice broke it.

"Wow, are you two actually sitting together?" Shelly laughed as she pulled a chair up to their table, "This just warms my heart."

Chell glared at her, while Wheatley went scarlet in the face. Shelly giggled and slapped a stack of papers onto the table.

"You guys are ready to be released," she told them, "but first, we have to fill out Wheatley's papers. I completely forgot about them."

She pulled out a pen and started filling in his height, weight, and eye color.

"So," she began, we she got to his name, "What do you want your last name to be?"

"Hmm, well it could be Drake, like that guy on t.v.!" He exclaimed, his eyes full of excitement, "Yeah, that's a real dashing last name. Suave!"

Chell shook her head.

Wheatley snorted, clearly offended, and asked, "What's wrong with that? Do you have any better ideas?"

Chell motioned for the pen, and Shelly handed it to her. Chell took the stack of papers and carefully wrote "Pendleton" in the designated slot, and also put "Adam" in the spot for a middle name. The other two simply stared in shock, processing the information.

"That... that really suits you." Shelly said, glancing at Wheatley, "Chell, how did you come up with this?"

Chell sighed and motioned for the two of them to stay there. Then, she hurried back to her room. Quickly, she found the plastic bag of her belongings next to the companion cube in her closet. She dug her hand into the pocket of her jumpsuit and pulled out the folded square of documents she'd stolen from Wheatley's file. She left his Aperture employee I.D. and the Aperture information sheet in her pocket, but brought everything else back to the cafe with her.

Shelly leafed through the crumpled, aged papers, eyes wide.

"This is... so bizarre. You were born in 1980? So you're three years older than Chell. It's crazy... you were born sixty-eight years ago, but physically you're only twenty-six. My mind is thoroughly blown," she handed the papers to Wheatley, "here, these aren't much use anymore. Keep them, they belong to you."

Wheatley's face went blank as he scanned the documents that held information about himself that he couldn't remember, "I'm from England... and I have- er, had- parents. Real human parents. Rebecca and Adam. So I got my middle name from my human father, my dad... weird."

Shelly placed her hand on his and smiled comfortingly at him. His fingers tensed almost infinitesimally under hers, Chell noticed, and he gave the nurse a tight lipped grin. It seemed that, like her, he too was uncomfortable with human touch.

"This must be strange for you, huh?" she asked, "Can you remember them at all?"

He shook his head, "No. No, I can't remember any of this. Those names don't quite ring any bells, and if I'm honest, I only know what England is from watching the telly."

_Although using the word "telly" is very English of you..._ Chell noticed his use of British slang and wondered if maybe, like her, his memories were hidden deep inside, just waiting to be triggered. Shelly excused herself, papers in hand, and left the cafeteria. Once she was gone, Wheatley turned to Chell.

"So... where exactly did you get these? They weren't just lying around, were they? I mean, this is pretty important stuff, right here, isn't it?"

Chell pointed to the papers, and then back at Wheatley.

"Next to me, then? Back there? Was it before, I, eh, woke up? In this body?" He asked.

Chell nodded, and he glanced back down at the stack, fingers shuffling through it. "Was there... anything else? Just out of curiosity, of course."

Chell nodded again. He looked back up at her, "Will you... will you show me?"

Chell wasn't sure if that was a good idea. If he found out he used to work at Aperture, it could really mess him up. She decided that he wasn't mentally sound enough to handle that information, so she would have to try and delay showing him for as long as possible.

She waved her hand back and forth, Wheatley studying her movement. "Later? You'll show me later? Ah, well, great then, brilliant."

His eyes darted back and forth. Obviously, he was quite wary of her. He watched her as if she were a wild animal that might attack at any moment. In a way, she was. She stood abruptly, and turned to leave. Wheatley's chair emitted a shrill squeak and he scrambled to stand up.

"W-wait, wait! Where are you going?" He called after her.

She turned around, rolling her eyes in annoyance. She placed her palms together, holding her hands in prayer position, and rested her head against them.

"Oh! You're going to sleep!" he laughed uncomfortably, stubbing his toe on the floor, "Probably a good idea. You know... getting late, and such."

Before she had a chance to walk away, he trotted up next to her. "Can I um, walk with you? To your room?"

She sighed, but bobbed her head in reluctant agreement. He stuck to her side as they made their way back down the corridor. Wheatley smiled and waved to every nurse they passed, calling them each by name. Chell wasn't surprised he was such a people person- he'd always been good at making conversation. When they arrived at her door, Wheatley peered imploringly at her, practically begging her with his eyes not to abandon him.

"Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow then, yeah?" he asked, "It'll be a big day, what with getting released and all."

Chell bit her lip and nodded. It was, and she was actually pretty nervous about it. She had no clue where she would be going. For all she knew, they might just dump her on the streets and say, "Good Luck".

Fortunately, thanks to Shelly, that wasn't the case. When the nurse woke her the following morning, she happily informed her that she had managed to secure an apartment for her. One of her good friends was the superintendent of an apartment building in the city and had agreed, as a favor to Shelly, that he would provide an apartment, rent-free for the first year. The only downside was that Chell had to share that apartment with Wheatley. Now she would have to deal with his antics 24/7. Though Shelly had promised they would get their own rooms, Chell knew that a few thin walls wouldn't be enough to protect her from Wheatley's boisterousness.

That being said, she was still incredibly grateful to Shelly for going to such lengths for them. She had really gone above and beyond to ease their transition into society. And when Chell had asked (through a note) why, Shelly simply shrugged and said that she had grown very attached to them. Now they were like friends to her and she wanted to help.

It seemed that others felt this way too- all of the nurses that had been assigned to Chell had made the trip to see her off, all offering advice, giving her gifts (mostly money to help her get started), and shedding tears as they blubbered their goodbyes. Even Dr. Patterson, gruff mountain man that he was, got a little misty eyed after their final checkup.

"Well," he coughed, choking back tears, "you take care of yourself, little lady. And don't let Wheatley pull you into any of his hair-brained ideas, you hear? I love that guy, but, Lord help him, he is nuts."

Chell chuckled and nodded in agreement. Then, in a rare show of affection and gratitude, she stepped forward and awkwardly slid one arm behind his back. He scoffed, and patted her on the back.

"It's been a real honor to treat you two, and I just know you guys will figure out this whole life thing. You both have a lot of fighting spirit," he said, his voice dangerously wobbly.

Chell released him, and smiled. If she ever learned to talk, she would have to thank him, and everyone else for that matter, for everything they had done for these two strange test subjects that had come in here, close to death and completely clueless. The staff had become their family, and Chell was both sad and scared to leave them, but she knew she had to.

She gathered her paltry sum of belongings from the closet. She would burn that jumpsuit once she got home, she decided. Shelly had provided Chell with a soft, long white t-shirt, black leggings and flat black boots so she wouldn't have to wear her jumpsuit and long fall boots home. Companion cube under one arm, she rode the elevator to the ground floor where Shelly and Wheatley were waiting for her. His face lit up as she walked towards them.

"Hey!" He called, waving at her, "Morning! Look at me, I'm wearing real human clothes! I look pretty smart in them, don't ya think?"

Chell glanced at his dark jeans, crisp button up shirt, and cool sneakers and decided he didn't look half bad. It was weird, though, to see him like this. In the lobby, dressed in everyday clothes, he blended in perfectly with the rest of the people that milled about. It was hard to believe that a few weeks earlier he had been a little metal ball.

He leaned over to whisper in her ear, "To be honest, though, these little shorts that Shelly made me put on underneath are kind of uncomfortable. I don't quite understand the point."

Chell's cheeks reddened, and she had to bite her lip to restrain an uncomfortable chuckle. He was so forthcoming- obviously, his human decency hadn't quite developed yet. What he'd said was hilarious, but she didn't need him thinking that they were buddies all of a sudden. She did her best to fix him with a reproachful glare and hurried over to Shelly, who watched them curiously from the doorway.

"What's with the whispering?" She asked Chell, who shook her head slowly as if to say, _you don't want to know_. "You guys sure are strange. In any case, are you ready to go?"

_Ready as I'll ever be_, Chell thought as she followed Shelly through the automatic doors. They emerged onto the bustling city street that Chell had previously only seen from above. More people than Chell had ever encountered passed by around them, a flowing river of frazzled humans, all rushing to be somewhere. Horns beeped and motors hummed as cars whizzed by. A breeze whistled through the air, ruffling Chell's hair. She had often heard this city called the "windy city", so a bit of wind was to be expected. Standing there, smack dab in the middle of a bustling metropolis, Chell felt absolutely shell-shocked. She had seen cities depicted on t.v., but actually experiencing one up close was far more intense.

She glanced at Wheatley and could tell that he too was feeling the culture shock. However, Wheatley's nervous energy was intermingled with absolute wonder and delight as he excitedly took in the new sights, sounds and smells. Chell envied him. He wasn't fazed by any of it- he just loved the new experience.

"Come on guys," Shelly commanded, oblivious to Chell's anxiety, "my car's this way."

She led them to an underground parking structure. Wheatley was flabbergasted by the multitude of cars all gathered in one place. He ran from vehicle to vehicle, examining each one.

"Wow," he breathed, fogging up the glass of a silver SUV, "there are so many! Look at all of them, so many shapes and sizes! I want one!"

Shelly laughed, leading them to a shiny green sedan. She popped open the trunk and Chell carefully lowered her companion cube in next to all the gifts she and Wheatley had received.

"You need to learn to drive first!" She retorted.

Wheatley jogged over to them. "Okay! I can do that, no problem. How hard can it be, you just push some pedals and steer, right? Can you teach me? Or do you need some special qualifications or something?"

Shelly laughed again, "No, I can teach you. But let's get you settled in before we start on driving lessons."

She opened the front passenger door, and Wheatley scurried to open Chell's door.

"I, uh, I heard that it was human custom for the man to open a ladies door," he said nervously.

Chell scoffed, but slid onto the leather back seat. Wheatley joined her and Shelly peered at them in the rearview mirror.

"Aw, chivalry's not dead! You could learn something from him, Eric." She punched the man in the driver's seat arm. He chuckled and turned around to face them, his green eyes alight with humor.

"Dude! You can only remember the past three weeks of your life, and you're already showing me up? Unfair!" He chuckled.

Wheatley blushed and looked down, "Oh, ah, sorry, um, _man_."

The attractive brunette man laughed, "Hey no worries, it's just a joke! I'm Eric, by the way, Shelly's fiancé." He extended his hand, and Wheatley peered at it before he registered he was supposed to shake it.

"I'm Wheatley. Wheatley Pendleton," he smiled politely, using his full name for the first time, "It's, um, nice to meet you."

Eric grinned and then turned his attention to Chell. "And you must be Chell! It's nice to finally meet you. Shelly talks about you all the time. She really never shuts up- I'm always hearing about one of you. I feel like I know you already."

Chell blushed and looked away.

"Oh please! That's a bit of an exaggeration. Can we get going?" Shelly asked impatiently.

"Sure, babe. Let's get this show on the road." He turned the key and the car roared to life, causing both Chell and Wheatley to jump in their seats. Eric and Shelly laughed at their surprise, and Eric shifted the car into reverse, glancing over his shoulder as he backed out of the space, then drove out of the garage and merged into traffic.

"Whoa, this is so amazing!" Wheatley exclaimed, his face pressed against the window as the city zoomed by, "I can't believe I'm riding in a real car! It's bloody fantastic!"

"I'm sure you've ridden in a car before, Wheatley, you just can't remember it," Shelly said, "In fact I know you have. You had a driver's license, remember?"

"Oh, that's right." Wheatley said, his face darkening for a moment, "So that means I've actually operated one of these before, way back in the old days. Maybe it'll, just, all come back to me once I'm behind the wheel."

Eric snorted, "Unlikely. Cars are different in England. Most of them are manual transmission, and the steering wheel and pedals are on the other side of the car. Plus, you drive on the opposite side of the road there."

"Okay, mate, to be honest I have no idea what most of that means. But why would they drive on the opposite side of the road? Wouldn't that make it kind of hard on tourists, and, uh, immigrants, and what not?"

Eric shrugged, "I dunno, you're the English guy. You tell me."

"Yeah, but I can't remember any of that," Wheatley mumbled under his breath. For some reason, Chell noted, talking about his past life as a human put him in a bad mood.

They arrived in front of a squatty brick building. It wasn't huge- from the street it looked to be only 5, maybe 6 stories high. It was dwarfed by the much taller and sleeker buildings surrounding it. However, it possessed a certain degree of charm and character. Chell decided that she liked it, which was fortunate considering it was her new place of residence from now on.

Shelly left the men to gather up all the items in the trunk and took Chell upstairs first. They approached the elevator, and Chell eyed it warily. She hated elevators. They reminded her of testing, and by extension, _that _place. Riding in one now made her physically sick- in the hospital she nearly threw up in one.

Since the apartment was only three floors up, she opted for the stairs, much to Shelly's chagrin, and Shelly handed Chell the keys to her new home: Apart. 3B. Chell stuck the key in the lock and turned, then stepped through her front door for the first time.

The apartment was average-sized with an open floor plan. Two of the walls in the den area were an exposed brick, while the others were painted off-white like the short hallway they were standing in. The kitchen was a decent size, and was connected to the living room. Shelly showed Chell to the first door in the hall- her bedroom. It was a good size, not too big but still comfortable, and the walls were painted a pretty shade of lilac. Shelly had taken the liberty of decorating the place, as was evident in Chell's floral bedspread.

Eric entered the room, his arms laden with gifts bags and Chell's companion cube. "Where do you want this thing?"

Chell motioned to the corner, and he set the slightly charred cube on the shiny hardwood floor. "What is it anyway? Wheatley said something about it being a 'companion cube'? I've never seen anything like it."

Shelly put her hand on his shoulder, shaking her head to tell him it was best to not bring it up. He nodded and unloaded everything else onto her bed. "You can go through these later- I'm gonna make sure Wheatley's settled in."

Shelly and Eric spent the rest of the afternoon showing the pair everything they needed to do to keep their apartment running. Then, while Shelly made dinner for the group, Eric presented them with three boxes. One contained a small flat rectangle that he claimed was a computer for them to share. According to him, you couldn't survive in the modern world without one. The other two boxes contained even smaller rectangles that he said were "smart phones" (though Chell was unconvinced that they had higher intelligence levels than regular phones) another must-have invention for the modern human. He gave them a crash course in using their devices.

"Obviously, the calling feature won't be much use for you right now," he explained, looking at Chell, "but texting will make your life a lot easier! If you need to tell us something you can just type it out."

Chell nodded, scrolling through her contacts list. Eric and Shelly were listed, along with the hospital's number, and even Wheatley's number was there. He was thoroughly puzzled with the device, turning it over and over in his hands trying to fathom how such a small box could run such an impressive operating system.

"This is pretty nifty, this little thing. It's a computer AND a phone in one!" Wheatley was currently fiddling with the voice commands. As the phone talked back to him, he gulped and nervously asked, "this... this thing isn't, well, sentient or anything, is it?"

Chell dropped the device and pushed it a few inches away from her. Why hadn't she thought of that? Had her time in Aperture taught her nothing? Of course a piece of machinery with such features would be intelligent! She recoiled from the sleek rectangle of devious intent.

Shelly and Eric stared at the test subjects, then back at each other, trying to gauge if they were serious or not. Judging by Chell's defensive stance and Wheatley's grave expression, it was safe to assume they were.

"Um, no, they're not," Shelly explained, "there really isn't anything like that yet. We've been too focused on rebuilding society to develop sentient machines."

Chell sighed with relief. Of course, Shelly was wrong- there were already sentient machines, although how they became that way was questionable. But it was nice to know that at least out here she wouldn't be encountering any. Wheatley, trusting as always, instantly relaxed and resumed to fiddling with his phone, but Chell couldn't help feeling a bit of technophobia. She hoped she would be able to get over it in time.

Shelly came from the small kitchen and placed plates of food in front of the three at the table. Chell, who had only eaten hospital food up till now, took a bite of her first home cooked meal and nearly expired with delight. Compared to this, the hospital food that Chell had always found delicious now seemed like shredded cardboard. Shelly insisted that this was just average cooking- if that were true, then Chell was dying to try food that qualified as fine dining. She scarfed down her first plate, then a second, while Wheatley went for thirds. The pair complimented her cooking profusely, Wheatley with words and Chell with meaningful looks and hand gestures. Shelly looked positively triumphant and pinned Eric with an expression of gloating.

After making sure that Chell and Wheatley were completely able to take care of themselves, they collected their things to leave. Shelly explained that she had left them plenty of meals in the fridge and demanded they call her or Eric if they needed any help at all. Then, she smothered them both with hugs, much to their discomfort, before Eric pushed her out the door. Silence filled the apartment as they stared after them. Wheatley wrung his hands and after a few moments looked down at her.

"So...", he began, his eyes nervous, "What now?"

Chell shrugged. For the first time in her life, she was without a plan, without a goal. The world was full of endless possibilities, and it scared her. She had no idea how to start. But she had never failed a test yet, and she would be damned if she started now. Tomorrow, she would begin her journey to success and security and whatever else made life great.

She turned to go to her room, but Wheatley stopped her.

"Wait! Where are you going?"

She rolled her eyes and pointed to her room door. He grinned sheepishly and blushed.

"Ah, right, your room. Probably should have figured that out. It is yours after all, and um, it's not like you would go to my room. 'Cuz it's mine. N-not saying that you can't go in there, if you wanted to, but you probably don't so- are you off to sleep then?"

She nodded, slipping inside her room.

"Ok, well, g'night then." He called after her.

She sighed. He was so needy. It was going to take a lot of willpower to live with him. _It's only temporary_, she assured herself, once you get a good job and a good income,_ you can move out and be done with him_.

She dressed in the pajamas she had selected out of the pairs Shelly had provided for her, making sure to move carefully as she was still quite sore. She glanced around her small walk-in closet, fingering a few of the pieces hanging there. Shelly had been nice enough to purchase the basics, but Chell knew she would need to venture out for more clothes in the near future. She went to the bathroom that connected her room with Wheatley's.

Fortunately, it was empty, and Chell was able to do her nightly routine in peace. She retrieved the bottle of ointment Shelly had been putting on her to reduce the amount of scarring that would result from her healing wounds. She easily slathered it over her front, but when she reached around to put some on her back, pain fired back at her.

She tried a few a more times from different angles, but she was just too sore to reach behind her. She glanced in the mirror and grimaced at the multitude of long cuts that crisscrossed her slender back and shoulders. If she didn't get this stuff on those she would have some nasty scars. Sucking up her pride, she pulled her top back over her head and retrieved the bottle, then went to the living room where Wheatley was settled on the couch with the laptop on his thighs, surfing the web.

She tapped on his shoulder, and he swiveled his head, blinking at her in surprise.

"Oh, um, hey, you're still up? I thought you were gonna go to sleep, although it looks like that's what you're planning to do, wearing those night clothes. What are they called again? Pajamas, right! Wait, did you come out here to show them to me?"

Chell scoffed at the ridiculous notion and shook her head furiously, shoving the bottle toward him.

"What's this?" He squinted at the label, "Scar cream? Thanks, mate, but I already have some of this stuff. Nice of you to worry 'bout me, though."

She shook her head and grabbed the bottle back from him. She pointed it toward her back, and then winced as a wave of soreness hit her. His eyes filled with concern at her pained expression.

"Oh- you can't reach your back, then?" She nodded, "You want, um, need, me to do it? To help you?"

She nodded again, her eyes squeezed shut. She was so embarrassed and ashamed, asking for his aid, but it couldn't be helped. He gulped and took the cream from her.

"Why don't you turn around then? So I can, eh, reach you and what not." He stammered, his cheeks red.

Chell nodded and turned away from him, lowering to her knees to sit on the floor. He leaned forward, then tugged at the material of her t-shirt.

"Now I can't very well apply this stuff with your shirt in the way. I mean I could, but it wouldn't get on your skin, so then it would be a bit useless." He chuckled nervously, "so you should probably, just, move it, or something."

Chell flushed. This was absolutely humiliating. She bit her lip and rolled her shirt up over her head, clutching the flimsy cotton to her front. Her back was now exposed to him, and she could practically feel the heat burning on his face. She heard him squirt a dollop of ointment onto his hand.

"Ok, well, I'm gonna do it now," he stammered.

Gently, his fingertips connected with her shoulder blades. This was the first time he had touched her since they escaped. Physical contact that wasn't absolutely necessary always felt odd to Chell, but physical contact with Wheatley was off the charts weird, especially now that he had flesh. Tentatively, he stroked her back with his long fingers, spreading cream across one of the long gashes.

"Blimey, you really got banged up something fierce, huh?" He murmured, lingering on her wound as his eyes assessed the damage on her back, "A lot of this was my fault, I bet. Most of it is, probably. I- well- I'm awfully sorry."

She shook her head, and waved her hand, motioning for him to continue. She didn't like feeling his hands on her. It was uncomfortable.

"Ah, right, sorry, I'll just get back to it, then."

He took his sweet time covering every square of exposed flesh with ointment, rubbing it in as he went for optimal results. He was thorough, a bit more thorough than need be, Chell thought. When he finished, he pulled her shirt back down for her. She stood and snatched the ointment jar from his clammy palm. His face was red and covered with guilt. She wished she hadn't needed to make him do that. Before retreating to her bedroom, she gave him a tight-lipped half smile of appreciation that he returned with a small grin of his own.

"Anytime, love, anytime, and anything. I'll help you out in any way I can, I promise. You can count on Wheatley!" He swore earnestly.

She wasn't sure his help was something she necessarily wanted, but it was nice enough for him to offer. With a small wave, she quickly shut the door to her room and leapt into bed. As she fell asleep, the odd sensation of his touch lingered on her skin. His fingers, she recalled, were surprisingly nice. Long, soft, un-calloused... the way they drifted over her back as gently as butterfly wings.

_Ew, what am I thinking_, she thought, repulsed. _This is Wheatley! He is a nuisance and an obstacle!_

That's right. Wheatley always had been and always would be nothing but a problem.

No matter how nice his hands were.


End file.
